endlessly, even after death
by AxieJade
Summary: When Jake Peralta imagined the afterlife he thought it would be cool and breezy; no stress whatsoever. And he was right, that's exactly what the Good Place was. There was one problem though. Jake Peralta does not belong in the Good Place. With the help of a fake soulmate and some helpful neighbors, Jake needs to figure out a way to keep his secret hidden and stay in the Good Place.
1. Everything Is Fine

Jake Peralta opened his dark brown eyes.

He gazed at the white wall in front of him, blank save for a sentence written in a large, smooth green font.

' _Welcome! Everything Is Fine.'_

As he read it, a sense of calm went through him. He knew that this was strange. He knewthat he should be suspicious. He was a _detective_ for god's sake. His brain was telling him to get up, to pull out his gun and look around. He didn't know where he was. He didn't remember how he got there. But, for some strange, unforeseen reason, he knew he was safe.

He was sitting down on a white couch. It was the only thing in the room, except for a brown coffee table in front of him, holding a few magazines all by TIME and National Geographic. The walls were all white and the carpet was dark grey.

He was wearing sneakers, blue jeans, a button-down plaid shirt and a grey hoodie. It was a typical _Jake Peralta_ attire… but he didn't remember putting it on.

A door to his left opened and he tore his eyes away from the words. In the doorway stood a man. He was tall and bald. He had dark brown skin and wore a blue police captain's uniform. He regarded Jake for a moment before speaking.

"Jacob, please, come in."

He stepped back through the door, leaving it open for Jake. Jake stood and followed.

Inside was an office. Shelves at the back, filled with books and files, with a desk in front of it, and a black couch against the wall next to the door. Everything seemed to be in meticulous order.

"Shut the door behind you and take a seat." The man said, motioning towards the chair on the side of his desk closest to Jake. He had already taken a seat on a roly-chair on the opposite side and had taken his police cap off and placed it off to the side on his desk.

Jake sat down.

"My name is Captain Raymond Holt." The man said. His tone and expression had not changed in the whole time Jake had seen him. He reached over the table and held out his hand for Jake to shake.

"Jake… Peralta." Jake said slowly, shaking his hand.

Holt shifted in his chair and began sorting through some papers on his desk.

"Can I just ask…?" Jake began, making Holt look up at him. "Where am I?"

"Oh, yes… you, Jacob Peralta, are dead. You are now in the next phase of your existence."

Jake stared, as though he was trying to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

"Cool… cool, cool, cool, cool, cool." Jake muttered. He took a deep breath. "I have some questions."

"Yes… that is… typical." Holt leaned forward in his chair, resting his forearms against the desk, fingers interlocking to show he was ready.

"How did I die?"

"Ah, let's see," Holt picked up a file sitting in front of him and leafed over it to the correct page. "You were the first responder to a hostage situation at a bank. A group of terrorists had taken half a dozen civilians hostage and were demanding several million dollars plus what they had taken from the vaults. You managed to get inside before they locked down the place and managed to take down many of the terrorists before you found the hostages. As reinforcements entered the bank, the final terrorist attempted to shoot the hostages. You jumped in front of the bullet and saved their lives."

Jake stared slack-jawed at Holt, completely in awe of himself. "So," He said slowly, barely hiding his grin. "You could say I was kind of like John McClain from Die Hard."

Holt stared at him. "… Yes?"

Jake snapped his fingers in triumph.

Holt continued. "You were awarded a posthumous Medal of Valour. Sometimes traumatic memories are removed after death to allow for a peaceful transition, which is why you do not remember."

Jake nodded slowly, his mouth turning to a smug smirk. He leaned back in his chair, grinning to himself.

Holt chose to ignore his grins and continued looking though the papers in front of him.

"Wait a second…" As if he had suddenly been struck by a terrible though, Jake froze, his eyes darting around his sockets. He leaned forward, suspicious. "Where am I? Heaven or Hell?"

Holt sighed and covertly rolled his eyes. "There is no 'Heaven' or 'Hell' as you were typically raised to believe. No religion was completely correct about the afterlife, they all guessed about five percent correct."

Jake nodded slowly, still suspicious.

"When you die you either go to The Good Place or The Bad Place. You are in The Good Place."

Jake let out a breath, relieved. He grinned. "Great."

Holt stood up. "Let me show you around."

Holt walked out of the room before Jake could even stand up. Jake jogged to catch up as they walked through the waiting room and out of the building.

There were standing in the middle of a street in what was obviously a city. Food vendors selling every different type of street food lined the pavement. The buildings were brick and tall. People walked around, pointing at stores and sights. Jake felt frozen looking around at it. He felt as though he had been here before. It looked like Brooklyn.

It looked like _home_.

He turned to Holt. "It this _Brooklyn_?"

"No… and yes. This neighbourhood is tailored to the three hundred and twenty two people who live here. And it just so happened that their preference is … Brooklyn."

"Noice." Jake smiled. Now that he looked properly, the street didn't look that much like a Brooklyn street, but it _felt_ like it. It was too colourful, not grey and dirty like a Brooklyn street. The buildings had signed above the doors, but instead of having _'Library'_ or _'Tech Store'_ they had names such as _'Your Anticipated Needs'_ and _'Small, Adorable Animal Depot'_. There were big, blooming, green bushes in front of the buildings dotted with bright flowers and each window along the buildings had an overflowing window sill full of flowers. The sky was a bright baby blue dotted with the occasional white, fluffy cloud. The air was clear and fresh, with so smell of emissions or pollution that he had gotten so used to living in Brooklyn his whole life.

There were no cars on the street, and it wasn't made of asphalt or gravel like a normal road, it was made of dark grey bricks in a criss-cross pattern. In front of each food vendor was a set of several circular metal tables with three metal chairs accompanying it, with colourful pillows sitting plumply on each one.

"Come," Holt said, pointing Jake towards a big flat of grass at the end of the street holding a few hundred chairs and what looked like a giant screen floating mid-air in front of them. It seemed to be the beginning of a park. Jake could see stretches of trees and grass in the distance, and even the hint of a lake. "The presentation is about to begin."

All the other people in the street appeared to be walking towards the seats as well. Jake turned towards Holt to ask him a question, only to see that he had completely disappeared. Jake furrowed his eyebrows, took a deep breath and went over to the chairs. By the time he got there, most of the seats were taken, but he managed to find a chair in the middle off to the side.

Next to him was a short and slightly stout middle-aged man with dark hair, pinkish skin and a strangely boyish face. He leaned towards Jake, giving him his hand to shake.

"I'm Charles Boyle." He said and they shook hands. Charles grinned.

"Jake, Jake Peralta."

Holt appeared on the screen, making them end whatever conversation they were about to have and look towards the front.

"Hello everyone." He said in the bland tone he seemed to use every time he spoke. "Welcome to the Good Place. You were all, simply to put it, good people. I can imagine you're wondering, ' _How can we be sure of that?'_ While you were on earth, every one of your actions had a positive or negative value. When you died, all the points you had during your time on earth is combined. Only the people with the highest scores get into the Good Place. You are here because you lived the best possible life you could have. And… you won't be alone. You're true soulmate is also here."

A sharp intake came from the crowd. They all looked around, scanning the crowd for 'The One'. Jake held his breath and looked around nervously. He had a _soulmate_?Soulmates were _real_? His locked eyes from a moment with a woman sitting two rows back with light, straight, brown hair and pale, rosy skin and another woman with a head full of dark, black, wild curls and a mean scowl. He turned to the front again, feeling slightly sick. Thankfully, Holt started talking again.

"Welcome to the Good Place. You _all_ deserve to be here. Have a great day. Have a great afterlife."

The crowd started clapping. Jake joined in, ignoring the strange sinking feeling in his stomach.

* * *

A few minutes later, Jake found himself walking with Holt through a suburban estate area. It was almost stereotypical: white picket fences, large backyards, perfectly green trees and grass. People stood in the streets talking to each other, in the yards, in the windows. The sun shone lazily through the thick roof of pale green leaves that stretched over the street. Holt guided Jake to a house at the end of the street.

"This is yours."

Jake stared at the house. It was two stories with a large front yard and fence up to his chest. It had a front porch with chairs and a table. It was perfect. He felt as though every part of it had been perfectly tailored to him.

He'd never owned a house before, only ever rented apartments. He'd always wanted to have a house, but had never gotten around to it while he was alive. It was his dream; to have a place of his own without a landlord demanding the rent or refusing to fix the broken plumbing, without sex noises from the couple upstairs or the sound of the man down the hallway learning to play his oboe at four in the morning.

"It's mine." Jake breathed.

"Yes…" Holt said slowly, as though he was wondering whether or not Jake had heard him in the first place.

Jake stepped through the front gate and strode up the concrete footpath, determined to see _his_ house. His hand was on the doorknob when-

"Peralta," Holt called from where he was still standing on the other side of the fence.

Jake took a deep, frustrated breath and turned. "Yes, Captain?"

"Come here. I'd like you to meet someone."

Jake exhaled through his nose and strode (nearly stomped) back down the path. He just wanted to see _his_ house. What was the point of having a house suited perfectly to him if he could never go in? He didn't go back through the gate, instead choosing to stand, leaning over the fence.

Holt looked over to the other side of the street where two women were talking. One of them, Jake recognised as one of the women he locked eyes with at the presentation, the women with black curls and a stern face. Jake didn't know the other. She had her back to him so all he could see was straight brown hair past her shoulders.

"Santiago!" Holt called.

The woman with straight hair turned, said goodbye to the woman she was talking to and walked over, barely containing the excitement on her face of being specially singled out by Holt.

"Captain," She said when she arrived at them. "What can I do for you?" She didn't even acknowledge Jake.

"Amy Santiago," Said Holt. "I would like to introduce you to Jake Peralta."

Amy froze and ran her eyes over him, mouth slightly agape. He couldn't help do the same. She recovered quickly and gave him a small smile.

"Jake Peralta, my name is Amy Santiago and I am your soulmate."


	2. Soulmates

Jake's heart skipped a beat. He felt as though someone had stretched into his chest and squeezed. He struggled to keep himself from lurching forward.

The first thing he noticed was that Amy was only slightly shorter than him, only by a few centimetres. Her nose was at the same height as his mouth. Her hair seemed darker now that she was standing in front of him. It was an oak brown almost black in some parts, but seemed to shine a torched gold in the light. Her eyes were dark and she had rich, bronze skin with a golden glow.

She had been looking at Holt with an admiring expression only seconds before. But as Holt had said his name her entire expression had shifted. He mouth had changed from a pleasant smile to a small oh shape. Her eyes had widened. She looked slightly mortified.

Jake couldn't help staring at her. As he did so he couldn't help the small open-mouthed smile appearing on his face. He couldn't wrap his mind around that idea. She was his soulmate.

Soulmate.

Jake had never believed in soulmates.

At least, not since he was a kid and Jenny Gildenhorn dumped him at his Bar Mitzvah. It might seem childish, but at that moment Jake had sworn off love. The failure of his own pubescent love fantasy had completely thrown him.

He had seem love fail again and again with his parents. He couldn't count the amount of times his dad had left for another woman, only to come back again a month later begging for forgiveness. His mum would always swear never again but she would always let him back home a few days later and pretend that he was never gone, until one day, far too late, she decided she'd had enough and she kicked him out for good. Jake only saw his dad a couple of times after that, until he stopped visiting all together.

There was a long silence as Jake and Amy both took each other in, unable to look away. Holt seemed to sense the awkwardness in the air.

"Well," He said. "I have to go see to… the others in the neighbourhood. You two can talk." With that he strode off to the house next door and began talking to the next set of people.

Jake and Amy continued to stare. They seemed to realise that they had been looking at each other for at least thirty seconds now without speaking.

"Hi," Jake said at last, breaking the silence.

"Hi," Amy responded. Too quick and too loud. She looked even more mortified.

There was another stretch of silence.

"Do you want to come in or…?" Jake trailed off, motioning back to his house.

"Okay."

Jake opened the gate for her and she stepped through. They walked up to the house, extraordinarily aware of each other. A thick tension clung to the air.

When they stepped inside, Jake was too distracted to enjoy his new home. The first room was the lounge room. It was spacious, with wooden floorboards and off-white walls. There was a stone fireplace with a large TV hanging over it, around it shelves filled with movies and books. Two soft looking couches and an armchair sat around a wooden coffee table and through an archway on the far side of the room was a large kitchen.

They sat down on the couches, opposite each other.

"So…" Jake began. "Where are you from?"

"I lived in Brooklyn."

"You did? I lived there too. Guess we just missed each other."

"Yeah, I suppose so."

There was an awkward pause. Amy wouldn't stop nodding, and Jake felt himself doing the same. She kept opening her mouth like she was going to say something. It reminded Jake of a fish. He had to stop himself from laughing.

Amy kept nodding. She took a deep breath and smiled at him. "Tell me a bit about yourself. What did you so when you were alive?"

"I was a detective."

Amy's smile grew. "I was a detective too."

"No kidding?"

They smiled at each other for a moment. But, when their smiles faded, tension filled the air again and they sat in silence. Jake seemed to suddenly find the rug under the coffee table very interesting.

"This is weird." Jake said, after a while.

"Yeah," Amy agreed. "I mean… it's nothing to do with you as a person. It's just… I don't know you and suddenly we're soulmates. It's crazy."

"Exactly!"

"Maybe we could do something together… to get to know each other?"

Jake shrugged. "Sure."

"Awesome… Gina?"

A woman suddenly appeared next to them. Jake jumped back and shouted, "Oh my God!"

The woman had been looking down at her phone the entire time. She didn't even look up when she greeted them with a "Sup." She had auburn hair that cascaded in waves onto her shoulders and wore a sleeveless patterned blouse and a pair of skinny jeans.

"Gina, what are some things we can do in town?"

"I dunno."

Amy sighed. "Thanks, Gina."

"Kay, bye." Gina disappeared.

"Who was that?"

"Gina. She's meant to help us, but… well," Amy sighed. "You saw. Let's just go find Holt."

"Yeah."

They found Holt standing out the front of a large house, with two people, both of whom Jake recognised. The first was the man Jake had sat next to at the presentation. He wracked his brain trying to remember his name… _Charles_! The other was the woman he momentarily locked eyes with at the presentation. She looked different now. When he first saw her she had been dark and glowering, as though she would punch him for looking at her wrong. Now she was… pleasant. Her thick, dark hair was in two, plaited piggy tails on either side of her head. Though her eyes were bright and she was grinning, she looked uncomfortable in her flowery pink and yellow sundress.

"Ah," Holt said, when he noticed them. "Jake Peralta, Amy Santiago, meet Charles Boyle and Emily Goldfinch."

"We've met."

They all spoke at the same time.

Holt's brow raised slightly and he nodded. "Well, I just want you all to know that you were extraordinary people on earth and I have to say that I am very lucky you are all in my neighbourhood." He clapped Jack and Charles on the back. "I must be off."

With that he walked off.

"He's really not much for goodbyes…" Jake remarked. He turned to Amy. "Amy can I speak to you in private?"

"Uh… sure."

"Awesome." Jake turned back to Charles and Emily. Both of whom were looking at him and Amy with gigantic smiles. "I'm so sorry to cut our _lovely_ conversation short but Amy and I really must be going."

Charles frowned as Jake slung an arm around Amy and steered her away. "Okay then!" He shouted at their retreating forms. "There's a party at our place tonight!"

"We'll be there!" Jake shouted back.

They turned around the corner into a brick alleyway, strangely clean and lit. It was empty. After looking around to confirm if they were alone, Jake stopped and turned to her.

"Amy,"

"Yes?"

"You know how we're soulmates?"

"Yes?"

"Practically eternal besties?"

"Yes?"

"Who would do anything for each other and would never sell each other out?"

"Oh my god! Will you just tell me?"

Jake looked at her for a moment. Amy stared questionably back. He took a deep breath and bit his lip. Amy could see him deliberating inside his mind. He had something to tell her. Something big.

"Jake… what is it?" Amy said, calmer now. She was _trying_ to be comforting. He was her soulmate. If she had to put up with his antics she might as well try to be pleasant.

Jake exhaled through his nose. He seemed to make up his made as he stared her dead in the eye. She gave him a comforting smile.

"I'm here by mistake. I don't belong here in the Good Place."

"WHAT?!"


	3. Blend In

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! I'm sure."

Jake was pacing now, arms crossed. He looked agitated and… scared. Amy sank down so that she was sitting on her heels, resting her head in her left hand, still careful not to touch anything gross in the alley, though she was not surprised to see that it was in immaculate condition. She was at a loss for words. She sighed and questionally looked up at him.

"How could you know?"

"I don't know. I just…" Jake trailed off and sighed, staring off. "I just know… okay? I mean… you heard Holt. He kept going on about how we're all extraordinary people and how he's lucky to have us but I wasn't like that. I wasn't terrible. I was just… an ordinary person. Sure, I have an awesome death but that's it."

"Jake, come on." Amy said, standing up and resting a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure you were great."

"You didn't know me. I wasn't that awesome. I barely ever recycled." He started listing things off with his fingers. "I was always late for work. I had a terrible credit score. I once broke my mum's vase and blamed it on our cat." Amy gave him a look. "I was in all kinds of debt. I barely had any insurance. I didn't check food for palm oil before I ate it, even though I knew it was bad for monkeys. I was selfish and lazy. "

Amy stared at him.

Jake crossed his arms over his chest, then, after a moment, seemed to get an idea. "Gina!"

"Sup?"

They turned to where Gina had appeared next to them. She was still on her phone and didn't look up at them. Amy wondered if she ever looked away from her phone.

"Gina," Jake said. "How many people get into the Good Place?"

"Uhhh… about zero-point-zero-zero-zero-zero-nine-nine percent."

"Thanks Gina."

Gina disappeared. Jake turned to Amy, eyebrows raised in an I-told-you-so face. "See? Only the best of the best get in here." Jake continued. "I was average… at best."

Amy dropped her hand from his shoulder and ran her hands through her hair, seeming to finally believe him. She looked at him for a moment.

"So what do we do?" She asked him. "Just pretend you do belong here? I _cannot_ lie to Holt."

"Because you're a huge suck up?"

Amy punched him in the arm, not hard, but didn't deny his statement.

"Ow!" Jake grabbed his arm, and gave her a hurt expression.

She glared.

Jake took a deep breath, turning serious. "Listen, Amy. I _know_ I don't belong here. Everyone I have met so far has been amazing people with amazing lives. I wasn't an amazing person and I didn't have an amazing life. Sure, I had an awesome death, but… there's just no way I belong here."

Amy looked away and took a deep breath. She couldn't doubt that Jake had a point. Only the best of the best got in here. She had so many thoughts running through her mind. Should she turn Jake into Holt? Was he even her soulmate? She hated this. This was the afterlife. It was supposed to be a perfect paradise, not a mass of anxiety. Her whole life she had followed the rules, and it was what had gotten her here, to the Good Place.

Breaking rules was something she'd never done. She once gave herself a parking ticket. She was voted most appropriate in high school. She had never been a rule breaker, a rebel. But, did she have to follow the rules here?

Amy looked back to Jake. "How can I help?"

Jake stared at her, disbelieving, and then grinned. "Wait, really? You're going to help me?"

Amy nodded as though she couldn't really believe she'd agreed to it either.

"Well, uh," Jake muttered. "I suppose all I really have to do is blend in."

"Okay." Amy nodded, thinking. "What about that party? At Charles' and Emily's?"

"Sure," Jake said. He was bouncing on his heels, hands on his hips, and nodding. "That's great."

They walked out of the alleyway, trying to seem as casual as possible and not at all succeeding. Luckily, the street they were in wasn't very crowded and no one seemed to be paying attention to them. Nonetheless, Amy's eyes darted around, aware of how suspicious they must have looked. Jake gave an awkward smile to a person who walked past them, looking at them strangely. Amy realised what it must have looked like, as though they had just had a make out session. If she saw a couple walk out of an empty alleyway the same way she and Jake just did, she probably assume the same thing. Almost subconsciously, Amy took a step away from Jake, cheeks turning red.

They walked back to Jake's place. It was barely a hundred metre walk, but Amy felt like it took hours. She could feel eyes baring into her back. She could feel people's thoughts echoing around in her head. She knew how it looked. _A new couple walking as quickly as they can back to their house after making out in an alleyway._

Amy took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. She had more important things to worry about than what people thought of her. She had bigger problems.

Amy had insisted on being on time, which was something Jake was pretty sure he had never done before. Arriving half an hour late was early for him.

When he told Amy this, she insisted that they were to be ready and out of door half an hour before the party started, even though Charles and Emily's party was in their home, which was only a street over from where Jake and Amy lived.

Jake, somehow managed to make them arrive ten minutes late, much to Amy's unhappiness.

"I should have just left you." Amy grumbled, as they walked up the front steps of Charles and Emily's house. "Everyone will staring at us. It's not my fault you made me late."

Jake didn't respond. He tugged at the dress shirt Amy made him wear instead of flannel or a leather jacket.  
"Okay," He muttered. "Soulmates. Here we go." He leans forward to knock the door, and then turns to Amy.

"You ready?"

"No."

Jake nods, and then knocks on the door.


End file.
